Review: Thirst (2009)

There are a few plot points that make it into just about every vampire story; namely, the desire to not cause harm versus the need to do so anyway and the outsider who wants in with no regard for the consequences. Director Park Chanwook has a way of delving beyond what his audience might expect in favor of exploring human behavior and the ways one's actions can impact others, and Thirst is one such example.

Thirst follows Sanghyun (Song Kangho), a young Catholic priest whose inclination to do good is so strong that he volunteers as a test subject for a lethal medical experiment in search of a cure. After being administered a developmental vaccine, he succumbs to the disease as all 500 of the other subjects have, but he makes a miraculous recovery after being declared dead following his blood transfusion. He quickly finds that in his new life, only human blood sustains him—which proves to be little issue for a priest in a hospital, who is provided a steady supply (by relatively humane practices).

Hospital-goers seek his guidance specifically once they learn he's experienced a miracle first, and he's been chosen by God. Among these people is his childhood friend Kangwoo (Shin Hakyun), whose mother pulls Sanghyun in to aid in curing his cancer. This allows an opportunity for Sanghyun to reconnect with Kangwoo's wife, Taeju (Kim Okbin), who becomes the catalyst for Sanghyun giving into his growing sinful urges. In turn, she sees him as an escape from her life with Kangwoo and his mother, and she's desperate enough that Sanghyun's bloodlust is little more than a quirk to her. She decides that not only can it benefit her in the long run, but it would help her even more if she were to take it for herself.

The story takes on a few different forms, not quite conforming to one genre, but steady in its principles. It's a horror, a drama, a romance, and it's even a comedy, dark as it may be. At its core, Thirst feels largely like a dissection of the ways love can change depending on your partner's actions, and how those actions may actually be a reflection of yourself that you're not ready to see. Sanghyun is a good man through-and-through, and while he loves Taeju, his feelings ebb and flow with her development from a lonely woman who wants him to a power-hungry beast who wants to know all carnal pleasures—whatever that means to you.

Thirst is a great movie—obviously, with Park Chanwook and Song Kangho in it—but a trigger warning to all: we expect a vampire movie to be drenched in blood, of course, but I don't know if I've heard grosser slurping sounds, and this movie is rife with all that. There is the occasional lull which, bizarrely enough, fell into some of the more technically interesting parts of the movie; scenes where they're playing mahjong in the kitchen pop off with the camera work, and some murders felt like snoozers by comparison.

Edited by Aleena Faisal